"He Called Me Mom."
BY: the Blue-Haired Goddess
bluehairedgoddess@tenchiclub.com
Category: General/Romance.
Rated: PG-13, just to be safe.
DISCRIPTION:
Washu confronts Tenchi regarding her daughter, and a confused Tenchi soon finds himself drawn to Washu in a surprising way. But Tenchi's real trouble lies with Ryoko, and the fact that he might just be falling in love...
DISCLAIMER: Though I would like to, I own *none* of the Tenchi Muyo characters in any of their incarnations. I *do* however, own one hell of a Tenchi obsession grin. Legal Folks, please do not sue me, I make no money from this or any other fanfic.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
"He called Me Mom."
* * * * * * *
CHAPTER ONE
It was the middle of the night. Well after one a.m. In a large house by a lake in the middle of the mountains, in the prefecture of Okayama, Japan, Tenchi crept silently across the hardwood floor.
"Can't sleep, Tenchi?" The woman looked up from her spot on the couch, a bemused smile on her face. Midway from the living room to the kitchen, Tenchi Masaki stopped dead in his tracks, his slender form illuminated by the flicker of the television set in the dark. Startled, Tenchi had the look of a deer trapped in the headlights of oncoming traffic. There sitting on the couch before him--halfway between his goal in the kitchen, and the stairs (which led to the safety of his bedroom) was...
"Ry-Ryoko! I didn't know you were here, that is I--"
"Relax, Tenchi. I'm not her. I couldn't sleep, either."
"Miss-Miss Washu." Tenchi breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry, Miss Washu, I just thought--and with the hair--and it's dark and..."
"It's okay, Tenchi. My daughter does carry Mommy's *remarkable* looks." Washu Hakubi shook her head, spiky pink-red hair barely moving with her action. "Though I am a bit shorter than her in this form." She narrowed her eyes, absently breaking eye contact with the boy to glance down at her crab-printed flannel pajamas, all too big for her twelve-year old body. "And remember, it's *Little* Washu."
"Right, Little Washu. Sorry about that." Tenchi reached up his hand, scratching nervously at the back of his neck.
"Tenchi, I couldn't sleep, either. I could use some company." Washu gestured to the empty seat opposite hers.
"I was actually here to get something to eat, Little Washu."
"Mind if I join you?" Washu rose from the couch, following Tenchi quietly into the dinnette, kneeling to sit at the low table. "Remember the last time we met like this, Tenchi?"
"It was when baby Taro was visiting last, wasn't it?" Tenchi was now rooting through the fridge, bringing to the table a bowl of cold sweet-rice and grilled samon, leftovers from the evening's dinner.
"Yes, it was." Washu nodded, taking her dish (which simply "appeared") and filling it with rice. "...And you had asked if that was really what a mother and daughter acted like."
"I remember." Tenchi nodded slowly in agreement, filling his plate. "I guess that I never expected you to be so motherly, Little Washu." Tenchi was now settling into his seat, his eyes on Little Washu and the furrow in her brow. She was really only picking at her food, he realized. And somehow, he could sense a sort of nostalgic pain in her eyes...
"I have been a mother for a very long time, Tenchi. Twenty thousand years ago. And I did it all again five thousand years before you were born." Washu sighed heavily. "Sometimes I think I'm forgetting what a mother and child are supposed to be like. It's been so long since I've had the chance...to be a mother." Washu blinked. She could feel the tears threatening her eyes. "Now here I am again. And I don't know where I'm going wrong." She kept her head slightly bent avoiding Tenchi's gaze. "She's a *teenager* now, Tenchi. Something that she couldn't be for the past five thousand years."
BY: the Blue-Haired Goddess
bluehairedgoddess@tenchiclub.com
Category: General/Romance.
Rated: PG-13, just to be safe.
DISCRIPTION:
Washu confronts Tenchi regarding her daughter, and a confused Tenchi soon finds himself drawn to Washu in a surprising way. But Tenchi's real trouble lies with Ryoko, and the fact that he might just be falling in love...
DISCLAIMER: Though I would like to, I own *none* of the Tenchi Muyo characters in any of their incarnations. I *do* however, own one hell of a Tenchi obsession grin. Legal Folks, please do not sue me, I make no money from this or any other fanfic.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
"He called Me Mom."
* * * * * * *
CHAPTER ONE
It was the middle of the night. Well after one a.m. In a large house by a lake in the middle of the mountains, in the prefecture of Okayama, Japan, Tenchi crept silently across the hardwood floor.
"Can't sleep, Tenchi?" The woman looked up from her spot on the couch, a bemused smile on her face. Midway from the living room to the kitchen, Tenchi Masaki stopped dead in his tracks, his slender form illuminated by the flicker of the television set in the dark. Startled, Tenchi had the look of a deer trapped in the headlights of oncoming traffic. There sitting on the couch before him--halfway between his goal in the kitchen, and the stairs (which led to the safety of his bedroom) was...
"Ry-Ryoko! I didn't know you were here, that is I--"
"Relax, Tenchi. I'm not her. I couldn't sleep, either."
"Miss-Miss Washu." Tenchi breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry, Miss Washu, I just thought--and with the hair--and it's dark and..."
"It's okay, Tenchi. My daughter does carry Mommy's *remarkable* looks." Washu Hakubi shook her head, spiky pink-red hair barely moving with her action. "Though I am a bit shorter than her in this form." She narrowed her eyes, absently breaking eye contact with the boy to glance down at her crab-printed flannel pajamas, all too big for her twelve-year old body. "And remember, it's *Little* Washu."
"Right, Little Washu. Sorry about that." Tenchi reached up his hand, scratching nervously at the back of his neck.
"Tenchi, I couldn't sleep, either. I could use some company." Washu gestured to the empty seat opposite hers.
"I was actually here to get something to eat, Little Washu."
"Mind if I join you?" Washu rose from the couch, following Tenchi quietly into the dinnette, kneeling to sit at the low table. "Remember the last time we met like this, Tenchi?"
"It was when baby Taro was visiting last, wasn't it?" Tenchi was now rooting through the fridge, bringing to the table a bowl of cold sweet-rice and grilled samon, leftovers from the evening's dinner.
"Yes, it was." Washu nodded, taking her dish (which simply "appeared") and filling it with rice. "...And you had asked if that was really what a mother and daughter acted like."
"I remember." Tenchi nodded slowly in agreement, filling his plate. "I guess that I never expected you to be so motherly, Little Washu." Tenchi was now settling into his seat, his eyes on Little Washu and the furrow in her brow. She was really only picking at her food, he realized. And somehow, he could sense a sort of nostalgic pain in her eyes...
"I have been a mother for a very long time, Tenchi. Twenty thousand years ago. And I did it all again five thousand years before you were born." Washu sighed heavily. "Sometimes I think I'm forgetting what a mother and child are supposed to be like. It's been so long since I've had the chance...to be a mother." Washu blinked. She could feel the tears threatening her eyes. "Now here I am again. And I don't know where I'm going wrong." She kept her head slightly bent avoiding Tenchi's gaze. "She's a *teenager* now, Tenchi. Something that she couldn't be for the past five thousand years."